


The Abomination

by kaguya_yoru



Series: Find Me [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Bruce is the Hulk but it means something different in this verse, F/M, Paranormal, Paranormal AU, Vampires, Werewolves, i reserve the right to have more graphic sex and violence in future stories, neither is the sex for that matter, the violence is not all that graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 23:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaguya_yoru/pseuds/kaguya_yoru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There have been savage attacks on the populace in the city of Willowsdale, VA. Determined to find The Abomination, Natasha Romanoff goes searching for answers from the newcomer in town, Dr. Bruce Banner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Abomination

To any average pedestrian walking down the street that early fall evening, Natasha was completely hidden in the shadows. To the ones from which she was hiding, she might as well had a neon sign shaped like an arrow and pointing directly at her head whenever her red tresses bounced. She’d tried dying it black and brown and blonde, but the red made her feel settled in her skin. So she’d kept the red and let the legends around her grow.

She was later than she would like for this meeting, not that her target knew she was meeting him. The moon hung heavy in the sky, only a sliver of darkness keeping it from being completely full. She rounded the corner and the long abandoned Culver University came into view. They’d lost funding after a horrific explosion had destroyed much of the labs and the expensive scientific equipment inside, their backers citing the numerous safety code violations over the years as their reason for pulling out. Much of that money had been later funneled into the R&D departments at Hammer Tech and Stark Industries.

Natasha headed towards the blown up husk of the science building. The stoners who used to hide the sweet smoke of marijuana in the still present acrid tang of the fumes from a chemical fire had recently started avoiding the area. She carefully scanned the wreckage before finding a partially covered recessed doorway that looked like it led to an underground area. Natasha strode forward and pulled hard on the thick metallic fire door, noting how it swung open smoothly on its hinges. She slipped inside, checking to make sure it didn’t automatically lock before she let the door fall shut.

She was at the entrance to a long hallway. Towards the very end, a weak light emitted from a doorway, its non-flickering quality suggestive of a battery-operated lamp, rather than candlelight. Natasha took her time as she made her way down the hallway; she had no desire to be killed for being too eager. She paused as she reached each doorway, but the doors stood wide open and silence reigned in the rooms beyond. As she moved closer to her target, she could begin to make out the soft clink of glassware touching and the scritch of a pencil moving across paper.

Natasha was just outside the doorway when a mild voice floated out to greet her, “Miss Romanoff, please come in.”

She didn’t move a muscle. The sounds within the room continued without pause. When the voice sounded again, amusement colored its tone.

“Miss Romanoff, I have no intentions of harming you, but what I’m working on is extremely delicate. Your attempts to be silent are proving to be distracting and I’d rather not blow up this lab.” He paused. “Again.”

Natasha rounded the corner. “You know I can’t allow you to finish these experiments.”

The man held up a hand, his eyes glued to the eyepiece of a microscope. “Five minutes and we’ll have all the time in the world to talk.”

She hadn’t gotten to where she was by pushing her luck, so Natasha leaned against the doorway and watched him work. His movements were sure as he carefully used a stop-dropper to place samples onto glass slides, reviewing each one and making notations in an old spiral notebook. As she waited, she took note of potential weapons and exit points in the room.

Finally, the man sat back with a sigh. “Stable yet inconclusive,” he muttered.

He finally looked up at her. His brow was low in a way that made him look perpetually sad. His curly brown hair was in complete disarray and his khakis, button-down shirt, and jacket looked as if they had seen better days. Even from across the room, she could see that he was built solidly; if it came to a fight, she would definitely need all her strength.

“Miss Natasha Romanoff,” he said, then gave her a small, wry smile. “Or shall I call you the infamous Black Widow?”

“Dr. Bruce Banner,” she said evenly. “Or shall I call you The Abomination?”

His shoulders hunched slightly although he kept his warm, brown eyes hidden slightly behind wire-framed glasses trained on her. He reminded her of a kicked puppy. “If you do,” he said, “I’ll know that you have inaccurate information.”

“Are you denying that you turn into a monster?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said. “I am an abomination, but I’m not The Abomination.”

He rose from his seat and clearly telegraphed his movements as he rounded the table. “I’d like to help you,” he said.

Natasha refrained from rolling her eyes. “Is this the part where you tell me that I could be faster and stronger, all for the price of one bite?”

“If I wanted to bite you,” he said in the same mild tone, “I would have done so already.”

In the space of one moment to the next, a weapon appeared in Natasha’s hand. It was a wooden stake sharpened to a deadly tip with almost delicate strands of silver threaded through and around the shaft. She didn’t say a word, but let the weapon’s appearance make her threat clear.

“I’d like to help you,” he repeated, “stop The Abomination and the others like him. Biting is not on the agenda.”

Natasha didn’t lower her weapon. “Others?”

Bruce dropped onto a stool. He looked decades older than he should. “Someone is trying to replicate my research in order to create others like me. Ironic, considering I was trying to recreate the super-soldier project from the 40s.”

She tightened her hand around the stake. “And what are you?”

He spread his hands. “I’m Bruce. I have to be Bruce.”

Natasha was fed up with this conversation. Her muscles ached from the tension running through her body and she longed to just plant the stake in his eyeball and go home to take a long bubble bath. “Look, you’re either going to give me information or I’m going to drive this stake through your heart. What’s it going to be?”

Before she could blink, the stake was knocked out of her hand and he was gripping her throat, his mouth pulled back in a growl. Up close, she could clearly see inside and not just his incisors, like she was expecting, but all of his teeth seemed elongated. She looked at his eyes to see if there was any reason left in them and was startled to see a flash of green before the brown returned.

Bruce released her throat and backed away. He went over to a corner of the room, while Natasha calculated how quickly she could get out of the university. It was no use. He moved faster than any paranormal she had ever encountered before. Resisting the urge to rub her throat, she readied herself for a fight.

He returned to her and held out her stake. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Natasha fought to keep her hand steady as she reached out for it. No paranormal had ever been able to touch it before.

“Let’s not waste the night with pointless threats,” Bruce said. He sat back on his stool. Natasha leaned against the wall, but didn’t put away her stake. No matter what, she felt much safer with it in hand. Bruce ignored its presence.

“There have been savage attacks recently,” he said. “Attacks out of the norm, even for paranormals.”

“Vampires leave little evidence unless it’s a nest feed. Werewolves are not known to bite more than once unless it’s a territory feud. Even then, the rest of the pack will take care of its own and not leave a body behind.” Natasha’s voice held a trace of bitterness. “That’s why they were hidden for so long.”

“It hasn’t been obvious, but attacks have happened to humans, werewolves, and vampires alike.”

“What?” Natasha was surprised, but kept her face schooled to impassivity. “How do you know?”

Bruce gave a sad smile. “I asked.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that, whatever it is, it’s strong.” Bruce looked apologetic. “Stronger than you or your friend Hawkeye. If you go up against it, you will lose.”

“You don’t need strength when you have precision,” Natasha said, thinking of Clint’s eyesight.

“That only works when you know your enemy’s weak point.” He absent-mindedly wrung his hands together. “I’ve talked with some who have managed to get away from his attacks. Mind you, they only got away because he let them; I think he wanted to get the word out. From their accounts, none of them were able to inflict any pain on him at all.”

As he talked, Natasha was getting more and more uneasy. “If you have so much information already,” she said, tightening her hand around her stake, “what do you need from me?”

Bruce sighed and pulled off his glasses. “Because while I am somewhat tolerated in the paranormal community, I am no longer remotely welcome in the scientific community. I need you to get me the scientific data that led to its creation. Only then will we have some idea of what we’re up against.”

After polishing the glasses on his shirt, Bruce replaced them on his face. “I have no interest in going up against this creature blind. If you go up against it now, you will die. But if we work together, we may have a chance of stopping it.”

“I need time to think about this,” Natasha said. “I don’t normally work with others.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed in frustration. “I can’t go through with my next stage of analysis without further scientific data.” He bowed his head. “But I will be unavailable for the next three days, regardless. Will that be enough time to decide?”

The full moon was in two days. Natasha didn’t know exactly what kind of paranormal he was, but she assumed his being unavailable had something to do with that. She nodded. “We’ll meet in four days then.”

“I really hope you take me up on my offer. I’d hate to hear of your death.”

Having nothing to say to that, Natasha simply left.

*

“I don’t like it, Nat,” Clint said.

He was carving her a new stake that he was planning on soaking in herbs and threading with both silver and iron.

“You can never be too careful,” he’d said when he started carving it. “We’re already up to our knees in werewolves and vampires. Who knows when the fucking witches and faeries show up?”

Natasha had snorted and rolled her eyes but let him carry on. She was happy as long as it was sharp. Besides, she didn’t solely rely on her stakes. There were other ways to kill paranormals.

“This is the first lead we’ve had in months,” she said now. “People are dying.”

“We don’t know anything about this doctor, not even what kind of _para_ he is.” He frowned a little at his design. “Maybe I should meet with him too.”

Natasha lazily did a front handspring before straightening up. They were currently living in the top floor of an abandoned warehouse. She would miss its open layout when they eventually would have to move, but she would welcome having an actual kitchen at their next place. “He knows about you,” she said without looking at him. “But I don’t think he’ll talk to you.”

“Everyone changes their mind when they’re on the wrong end of my arrow.”

Natasha shook her head. “It’s different this time, _malen’kiy yastreb_.” Her concern for him was evident as she murmured the Russian endearment. “He’s faster than any _para_ I’ve ever seen and he was able to pick up my stakes without pain. I think he’s in a category of his own.”

Clint’s frown furrowed his brow. “And you want me to let you meet with him alone?”

Natasha’s tone was cold. “You do not let me do anything. I decide what I do and don’t do.” She stared out the window at the setting sun, purples and oranges and reds bleeding across the sky.

Clint heaved a sigh. “Ah, Nat,” he said.

She heard him place the unfinished stake on the table. He walked over so that he was standing right next to her without touching her. “I’m worried,” he said. “This isn’t a bloodthirsty vamp or a bite-happy were. You’re right. It is different. And I’m not entirely sure we’re ready for it.”

*

Natasha pulled off her apron and stretched. Battling paranormals was not a full-time job for her, but rather a hobby she’d picked up after seeing how woefully unprepared regular law enforcement was. In fact, not all paranormals were evil - they wouldn’t have stayed hidden for so long if they were - but there were always bad ones in every bunch. In places like Willowsdale, VA, where Culver University was located, the local populace tended to be easy pickings for them. Dispatching of the malevolent paranormals allowed her to put her hard-won skills to good use and to travel whenever she got the itch to move. If she had other reasons for fighting, they were her own.

There were rumors that a specialized task force outside of local law enforcement was being put together to police the paranormal community, but until then she would keep doing what she was doing. In the meantime, if she wanted to eat, she needed to work. Thankfully, every city had a diner who was looking to hire and one or two missing buttons on her uniform always guaranteed her good tips.

She changed out of the uniform and into her regular street clothes, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. A baggy flannel shirt, jeans, and a bookbag transformed her into any other college student looking to make a couple of extra bucks. The sun was starting to set as she headed towards Culver. She didn’t know if he was a vampire or not, but if so, she didn’t want to take the chance of pissing him off by arriving before the sun went down.

She went to an independently owned coffee shop near Culver and curled up in one of the armchairs. She sipped at the organic free-trade coffee she’d been forced to buy to maintain her cover and occasionally made notes in a spiral notebook in the Russian code she’d developed years ago. When the sun had been set for a good half hour, she packed up her things, ignored the lovesick teenaged barista who’d been staring at her for the past 10 minutes, and made her way towards the labs, making sure no one was following her along the way.

This time, Bruce had discarded the jacket and had the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his elbows. Natasha had been right last time; judging by the muscles in his forearms, Bruce seemed to be in good shape. He was writing when she entered but the scientific equipment looked undisturbed today.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to apologize again, Miss Romanoff,” he said upon her entry. He looked up and the lines of his face were deeper and his face was drawn tight with fatigue. “When I first let it be known I was looking to speak with you, I thought it would be simple enough for you to get the data. It turns out the situation was more complex than I realized.”

“What did you find out?” Natasha leaned against the wall near the door in the same spot as last time. She didn’t pull out her stake, but she was comforted by its presence angled against the small of her back.

Bruce pulled off his glasses to polish them. “Twenty years ago, my research was funded by Hammer Tech, looking to expand into the biomedical engineering market, or so I was told. They wanted me to look at vampire and werewolf DNA in order to determine the genetic basis for some of their paranormal abilities, like enhanced regenerative capabilities and increased strength. I had been looking into the subject myself, but my own efforts to get vampires and werewolves to volunteer their tissue for research had not been going well, to say the least.”

He chuckled and replaced his glasses. “Truth be told, I’m not sure why I wasn’t killed.”

Natasha remained silent. Bruce cleared his throat. “Yes, well, Hammer Tech funded my research and suggested that I look at the super-soldier project from the 40s as my starting point for how this data could be used for humans in the future. They provided me with the lab data and gave me vampire and werewolf samples whenever I wanted.”

He sighed. “I was young and stupid. All I saw was a way to help mankind and make a name for myself in the scientific community so I didn’t ask questions about how and why I was being funneled all this information and technology.”

Bruce fell silent. Natasha waited but he seemed lost in his own thoughts.

“What happened?” she asked, her inflectionless voice somehow overly loud in the still room.

Bruce seemed startled out of his reverie. “Oh, well,” he said. “About five years ago, I got the idea of combining gamma radiation with a virus carrying specific gene sequences found in the vampire and werewolf DNA that differed from humans. The gamma radiation would stimulate the DNA to be incorporated within human chromosomes at the appropriate sites. It was supposed to improve healing in humans.

I’d tested it in dogs and it worked exactly as I had modeled. I was about to reveal the news to Hammer Tech when Justin Hammer himself came to tell me that my research was a waste of time and that the last fifteen years was a complete money sink. I tried to tell him that I was close, but he wasn’t listening to me and he was ordering his employees to start clearing out my equipment.”

He was silent a moment. “I can’t claim I was young. But I was desperate. I tested it on myself while he was there.”

Natasha itched to pull out her stake, pin him to the ground, and force him to get to the point. Knowing that it would be a pointless exercise was the only thing that stayed her hand. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Dog DNA is not the same as human DNA. It changed me.” Bruce ran a hand through his hair. “Over the past three days, I found out that my original research was not being funded by Hammer Tech, but rather by General Ross of the U.S. Army. That’s why I was given access to the super-soldier data. The data I collected here was destroyed so, for the past five years, he’s been trying to replicate it. Hence, The Abomination.”

Natasha sorted through the information she knew. “You said there were others.”

Bruce grimaced and rose from his seat. Wringing his hands while pacing, he said, “As far as I’ve been able to find out, The Abomination was the only viable experiment. The others perished or were disposed of.”

She still didn’t know what he wanted. “Why are you telling me all this?” she repeated.

Bruce peered through his glasses at her. “I’m giving you an out,” he said abruptly. “Infiltrating Hammer Tech would have been relatively easy. Hammer’s rich but his tech is awful. Half the reason my research took so long was because his equipment kept breaking. I’m not asking you to break into a military base.” He wrung his hands again while continuing to pace. “I’ll go up against The Abomination alone.”

Natasha stared at him. “But then you may die.”

Bruce nodded once. “Yes, that may be true.”

She wondered, not for the first time, why the universe saw fit to surround her with idiotic men. “So you die, The Abomination is still loose, and then I’ll have to go up against him anyway without knowing anything about his strengths and weaknesses.”

Bruce paused in his pacing. “Uh,” he said.

Natasha pushed off from the wall. “Right,” she said, stalking towards the table. “How about you give me some actual useful information so that we can come up with a real plan to stop The Abomination?” She straddled a stool and pulled out her spiral notebook to take notes.

Bruce sheepishly sat down on the other side of the table. “That may be best.”

*

It was nearing midnight before Natasha emerged from the ruins of Culver University. She hitched her bookbag up onto her shoulder and headed towards a towering oak tree whose leaves had yet to start falling. She leaned against the wide trunk, propping one foot against its bark.

“Clint,” she said quietly.

A figure dropped from the canopy with only a small thud as his feet hit the ground to mark his passage. He took a long moment to look her over before giving her a nod.

She pushed off from the trunk and began walking. “I’m going to need you for this.”

Clint matched her pace, stride for stride. “You’ve got me.”

*

It took a month to lay their plans. The military base was heavily guarded, but everyone knew that sometimes the soldiers on leave would take pretty girls back to the barracks. Clint was going to be her backup, armed with tranquilizer arrows in case she needed to make a quick getaway. The tranquilizer was courtesy of Bruce, who mixed up a batch as soon as he heard they needed some.

“It has both sedative and amnesic qualities,” Bruce’d said when he’d given them to her. “It should take effect immediately and take about an hour to wear off. I hope that’s enough time.”

Natasha had nodded her thanks. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t allowed Clint to accompany her on this visit - the tranquilizer was for him after all - but she hadn’t wanted to delve too deeply into the reason.

Their target was one Private Mitchell Hamilton. A short, spindly man with glasses - he hardly seemed like the type to be in the army. With hair dyed blonde and a black dress that barely covered her breasts and a hemline that ended at the tops of her thighs, she ensured that not a single soldier would remember her face when she walked into the local club near the army base.

She spent about 45 minutes on the dance floor first, always making sure to keep in his line of sight but without acknowledging his blatant staring. Finally, she whipped her hair around and pretended as if this was the first time she’d seen him, smiling a wicked grin before beckoning him over with a head tilt.

Private Mitchell Hamilton looked as if he was going to hyperventilate any second.

Natasha resisted the urge to roll her eyes, curved her lips seductively, and sauntered over to him. His buddy sitting next to him, noticing her approach, looked gobsmacked when she practically sat in Mitchell’s lap. 

“Wanna dance, sailor?” she purred in his ear.

He looked puzzled. “I’m not a sailor,” he said dumbly.

She had to give his friend credit for helping him out; Mitchell probably never got laid. “What he means to say,” the friend said, “is that his name is Mitchell and he’d love to dance with you.”

Mitchell looked horrified. “No, but,” he protested. “I can’t dance.”

Natasha longed to strangle him, but settled for just curling her hand around his tie. “I’ll show you,” she promised.

She pulled him out onto the dance floor among his friends’ whoops and hollers, where she proceeded to give him a standing version of a lap dance, her back pressed to his front. His arousal was evident - Mitchell was actually packing some serious heat - by the time she craned her neck around to whisper “Buy me a drink” in his ear. But when she turned to face him on her bar stool after ordering her drink, he looked absolutely miserable.

“Are you a vamp?” he asked with a sigh. “I promised my momma I wouldn’t get vamped.”

“Okay, look,” she said in a conspiratorial tone. She leaned in so that her breasts were pressed against the length of his arm. “The truth is, I’ve always had a fantasy about doing it in a barrack and you look like the only one smart enough to get me in and out of the base without being seen. Plus, I’ve always had a thing for cute nerds.”

When she pulled back, his face cleared like a breaking day. “Sure,” he said breathlessly. “Sure, I could do that.”

*

Mitchell snuck her into the base while his fellow soldiers were still at the club. She got him horizontal on his bed and was leaning in to kiss him when a quick jab with a needle caused the tranquilizer to go into effect and his face to go slack with unconsciousness. She slipped out of the barrack and kept to the shadows as she made her way to the research building on base.

The army base was completely supplied by Hammer Tech and Bruce had grown adept at bypassing Hammer’s technology over the past five years. In fact, he’d told her that if he had any experience with sneaking into buildings, he would have done the entire operation himself. Armed with a few simple gadgets, she was able to break into the building, hack the security codes on the computer, and copy the entire hard drive onto a thumb drive. Afterwards, she slipped back out of the building, unpausing the security cameras as she did so. It had been no more than five minutes since she’d entered the building, so hopefully it would only look like a blip in the software, something the guards were used to seeing.

Natasha left the army base the way she entered, silently thanking Mitchell for letting her know about the hole in security. Clint met her a few blocks away from the base in a grove of trees. He handed her a change of clothes.

“I didn’t even get to use my fancy new tranq arrows,” he grumbled.

“That’s a good thing, Clint,” Natasha said, shimmying into her favorite pair of jeans.

“Yeah, well,” he said. He pulled down the zipper on her dress when she turned away from him, then stepped in front of her to block her from view as she slipped out of the dress and into a T-shirt. “You sure you’re okay with going to meet him alone tonight?” he asked. “It’s the night after a full moon.”

“The operative word being after,” she said, pushing her dress into her bookbag. She shrugged on another flannel shirt, wishing instead she could pull on her leather jacket. “I’ll be fine.”

“Call me if you need me,” he said.

She nodded. He was going to follow her no matter what she said anyway.

Natasha hopped the bus across town to the university. It was nearing 9 o’clock, but it was a Friday night, so there were more people around than on the other times she’d visited. She waited in the shadows of the nearby grove until the street cleared and then entered the underground area.

She was almost at the lab when a voice checked her progress. “It seems that I am fated to apologize to you nearly every time I see you.”

Natasha stilled. The voice sounded like Bruce, but it was deeper and harsher. Her hand crept to the small of her back as she pivoted in place. Moonlight streaked the room located across from the lab from a small window located high in the wall, but would be at ground level from the outside. Bruce sat cross-legged, his back against the concrete block wall. Thick metal rings had been embedded in the walls and chains were strung through them, the heavy manacles attached to them encircling his wrist.

Bruce continued, “I’m afraid I didn’t make it clear enough last month that I wasn’t to be disturbed during the three days surrounding the full moon.”

Natasha took a step into the room. “What is this?”

Bruce looked up at her from under his brow. “Do you really want to know?”

Natasha sank into a cross-legged sitting position across from Bruce, but still near the door. “Tell me.”

He was silent a long moment, but Natasha waited patiently. The silence was charged, but it just caused a pleasant buzz underneath her skin, rather than the itch she was used to.

“For most of the month,” he said, “I can pretend I’m still a man. I can work, get groceries, go to the movies. But for the three days surrounding the full moon, my sympathethic drive is increased. It gets hard for me to concentrate. When the moon rises, I could get lost in the sensation.”

Natasha’s voice was quiet. “What happens?”

“Increased sympathetic drive leads to three reactions.” Without his glasses, Bruce’s eyes gleamed in the darkness. “On the first day, the day before the full moon, it leads to flight. I want to run through the trees. I want to feel the wind rush past me. I want to feel the ground beneath me and the sky above me and nothing between me and the raw beauty of nature.”

His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “On the second day, the day of the full moon, it leads to fight. I want to stalk through the shadows and find the perfect prey. Not some whimpering, shrinking animal,” he snarled, “but a beast worthy of a brawl. I want to sink my teeth into its neck and feel it struggle as I drain its life.”

Bruce licked his lips and his teeth looked bright and sharp in the moonlight as he smirked. “On the third day, the day after the full moon, a day like today,” he said, “I want to fuck. I want to lose myself in someone else, in their body, in their scent. I want to bury myself in them.”

The air hung heavy between them. “Do you have to chain yourself every month?” Natasha asked.

“It’s been five years,” Bruce said. “I’ve learned to control myself.”

Natasha didn’t ask why he was chained now. “How does it feel to suppress those instincts every month?”

“It’s not every month,” Bruce said. “It’s every single day.”

The chains clinked as he turned his hands so that he could grip his knees. “It feels like I’m suffocating.”

They sat for a long time without speaking or moving, until finally Bruce drew in a long breath and let it out. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night,” he said. “Please leave the data on your way out.”

Natasha smoothly got to her feet. “The red suits you better,” he said before she left.

She didn’t reply.

*

“There’s been another attack,” Natasha said to Bruce by way of greeting a week later.

“Actually, there have been three attacks,” he said. He peered at her over the glasses perched on his nose. “The Abomination left a clear message this time with his survivors.”

Natasha’s hair was back to the red and she was in her usual college student disguise. “What was the message?”

“He wants to fight me.” Bruce’s voice had seemingly unintentionally dropped into a growl. He pulled himself together and continued, “He wants to prove which one of us is the so-called failure.”

“So we’re dealing with a psychopath with an inferiority complex,” Natasha said, settling down at the table. “Fun.”

“I’ve been reviewing the data,” Bruce said, turning his attention to a laptop nearby. “From what you brought me, it appears The Abomination is one Emil Blonsky. Initial tests proved fruitful, but then the serum they used began to break down in his system. Right now, it’s extremely unstable and so is he.”

“Any weaknesses?”

“None that are apparent. But it does appear that the initial boost in strength and speed he received from the serum have been declining steadily. Right now, he’s still stronger and faster than a normal paranormal, but if we waited, his abilities may decline further and make him more vulnerable.”

Natasha met Bruce’s gaze. “I get the feeling that that’s not an option.”

“If we wait, I think he will go on a rampage and more will die.”

“So we stop him as soon as possible.” She hesitated. “Do we need to wait until the next full moon?”

“I told you before,” Bruce said, his eyes flashing green. “It’s been five years. I can control it.”

He looked at her from underneath his brow. “I do think it’s time for you to call in your friend, Hawkeye, though. The Other Guy is savage, but I have little experience in fighting. Blonksy has had years of military training. I’m going to need all the help I can get to get the opening I need.”

“We’ll get you the opening you need,” Natasha said, getting up from the table. She walked to the small window in the room across the hall, ignoring the empty chains and manacles. Pulling off the band that was keeping her hair up in a ponytail, she tossed it out the window.

By the time she had settled back at the table, she could already hear the door to the underground area opening. Clint appeared in the doorway a few moments later.

“What’s the plan?” he asked.

*

“Nat, I have to say that I really don’t like this plan,” Clint said.

“I don’t care.”

“All right then,” Clint said. “I just needed to say it.”

Natasha scanned the clearing. “Clint,” she said in a low voice.

“On it,” Clint said and disappeared into the trees.

They were in a forest on the outskirts of town. Bruce had let it be known through the paranormal community that he was willing to confront The Abomination. Unfortunately, it had taken another attack before the message could be delivered, but at least the poor werewolf had been left alive to deliver Blonsky’s response. It was getting close to midnight now, the time Blonsky had specified; it seemed he had a taste for the dramatic. Natasha was already rather pissed as she had the early shift tomorrow, so she was itching for a fight.

Bruce began unbuttoning his shirt. “Are you ready for this?” he asked.

“For ten years, I was honed to be the perfect assassin,” Natasha said without looking at him. “My every waking thought was consumed with finding my target and eliminating him or her. I escaped from there and have lived a relatively normal life since.”

Bruce pulled off his button-down. “If you discount all the times you’ve killed paranormals.”

“Yes,” Natasha said. “Also, the human murderers and rapists.” Her eyes were cold when she met his gaze. “Let’s not forget them.”

They were interrupted by a loud growl from across the clearing. “BANNER!” The Abomination bellowed.

He was still shaped like a man with muscles bulging from his trunk-like arms and legs but he had a wolf’s muzzle. His canines were longer than a normal wolf’s, however, and a line of fur extended down the length of his back. He snarled at them.

Bruce gave him an answering snarl. His voice was a deep gravel when he spoke to Natasha. “I may inadvertently harm you. If I do, I’m sorry in advance.”

Natasha pulled two wicked silver knives from their thigh holsters. “I can take care of myself,” she said.

With that, Bruce fully transformed into a massive wolf, twice the size of any werewolf she’d ever seen before. She saw a glimpse of a green eye before he launched himself across the clearing. Natasha followed at a dead run after him.

Blonsky may have had military training, but Natasha had trained for years to watch for openings and her targets’ weak points. She lashed at every vulnerable place she could reach: an Achilles tendon here, a hamstring there. Clint was right with her, distracting Blonsky with arrows every chance he could get.

Natasha could tell that Blonsky was weakening and yet, Bruce refrained from striking the killing blow. Instead he leapt again and again, tearing chunks out of The Abomination’s flesh. She could feel a fierce grin stretch across her face as she buried a blade in the soft flesh of his armpit. Finally, Bruce coiled back on his hind legs and surged upwards in a powerful bound directly at Blonsky’s throat. Blonsky beat at Bruce’s haunches, but it was no use. He was too weakened by his wounds and he sank to his knees before toppling over.

Bruce backed off and let out a roar that shook the trees. He shook his head and transformed back into his human form, but his muscles were still rigid with tension and he kept his distance from Natasha. He dragged a forearm across his mouth, wiping off the worst of Blonsky’s blood, but he made no move towards the pile of clothes neatly folded at the edge of the clearing in order to cover his nakedness.

Clint edged up next to Natasha, an arrow trained on Bruce. “Nat, maybe we should get out of here,” he said in a low voice.

Natasha holstered her knives. “If you trust me at all, _malen’kiy yastreb_ , you will not follow me,” she said. She walked towards Bruce.

Clint’s voice was a fierce hiss. “Nat, what are you doing?” 

Natasha ignored him. “Bruce,” she said. She felt the savage grin stretch across her face again. “ _Presledovat’ menya_.”

Bruce’s head whipped around to face her. His eyes were still swallowed by green. He smirked and rushed towards her.

Natasha took off through the woods. She knew that he could easily catch her and yet he stayed behind, his snarls echoing through the forest. She burst into a small clearing deeper in the woods and was tackled from the side. Natasha immediately twisted in midair. They landed hard on the ground, Bruce on his hands and knees, Natasha’s thighs wrapped around his neck.

“Please tell me you want this,” he said.

“Would I have asked you to chase me if I didn’t want this, _malen’kiy volk_?” Natasha smiled. “Yes, of course I do, yes.”

Bruce surged forward and she unlocked her thighs to allow him to cover her body with his own. They met in a hard kiss, tongues immediately tangling with each other, the copper tang of blood filling both their mouths. She ripped her mouth away only to capture his bottom lip in a playful yet solid bite, her mouth stretched in a grin. He drove his hips hard against hers, causing her to release his lip with a gasp. He latched onto her neck, dragging his sharpened teeth down her skin and smearing streaks of dark red. Her back arched with the sensation and she threw her head back, lengthening her neck and prolonging the pleasure.

They worked together to rid her of her clothing until, at last, Bruce loomed over her, poised over her entrance.

“Wait,” he said. He was trembling slightly with the effort of holding himself still. “I don’t know if I can conceive but I do know that I don’t have protection.”

Natasha pushed him over so that she was straddling him. “I can’t get pregnant,” she said and lowered herself onto him in one long slide.

They moved together, biting and scratching and licking every inch of skin they could reach, until their moans echoed throughout the clearing. Afterwards, Natasha cleaned herself and collected her clothes while Bruce looked on.

“I guess I have a long walk back to my own clothes,” he said.

“Clint,” Natasha said while adjusting her thigh holsters.

Clint stepped out from behind a nearby tree. His face was expressionless as he handed Bruce the change of clothes, his glasses perched neatly on top.

“Uh, I guess I’ll go change over there,” Bruce said, gesturing vaguely off into the distance.

Clint waited until Bruce had disappeared into the trees. “Nat, I had to follow you,” he said, a slight apology in his voice.

Natasha shrugged on her leather jacket. There were still streaks of deep red blood visible on her neck. “If I didn’t want you to follow me, _malen’kiy yastreb_ ,” she said, “you wouldn’t have been able to find me.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story in a planned series. It is a complete story, but there are some details that may become more relevant in future stories. Unfortunately, I have no idea when I'll be able to finish the next story due to my extremely busy schedule, so please subscribe if you want to know when the next story is done. Other pairings will be introduced in future stories.


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